


Larkspur

by laveIIans



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Family Issues, Family Secrets, First Time, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I planned this as very slow burn but the characters had other plans, Love Confessions, Meet the Family, Romance, Secrets, Sexual Tension, Trust Issues, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28933113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laveIIans/pseuds/laveIIans
Summary: Thia is a wood elf priest of Tymora, new to the wider world beyond her forest borders. She wasn’t expecting to get infected with a mind flayer parasite, or to find love in the form of a roguish elf with secrets of his own, but the gods of Faerûn had other plans...
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Astarion/Charname (Baldur's Gate), Astarion/Female Charname (Baldur's Gate)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

They set up camp just outside the overgrown ruins, circling back to the courtyard. Shadowheart had had the idea that they could use the walls to help shelter from the elements, and Thia agreed; but truth be told, none of them really had the energy to explore much further. A lot had happened over the span of twenty-four hours:banding together, fighting walking brains, possessed villagers, skeletal figures - and the fear of becoming a mind flayer at the drop of the hat went without saying. It was almost easier to refuse to acknowledge the quiet tension brewing not so deep beneath the surface; but it was there, and real, and no less painful. 

Thia lit up the campfire as the others prepared their bedrolls, hesitant to unravel her own. _If I sleep tonight, will I wake up a monster?_ She shook her head, banishing the thought from her mind, and took her measure of her newfound companions.

Shadowheart was… guarded, perhaps, but that was little surprise. They had only known each other for a matter of hours after all, and Thia hardly expected the half-elf to start spilling her life story over ale and toasted marshmallows. Gale seemed jovial enough, and Lae’zel was _herself_. She had never seen a githyanki before, nor heard much about them, and the woman seemed keen enough to keep it that way. The most Thia had got from her, other than unveiled death threats, was a general air of derision. 

And then there was Astarion. He looked oddly pale, though that may well have been something the mind flayers had done on their ship. It wouldn’t have surprised her to hear that they might do such a thing, for some perverse joy if nothing else. He had held a knife to her throat not too long ago, yet now seemed content to follow her. It was hard to know what to think about him, really.

The man in question was currently grimacing down at his fingers, turning his hands round to get a better look. “I didn’t think a dead man could still hold so much blood in them,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s gone all underneath my nails.”

“Next time, why don’t you try a ranged weapon?” Gale called over from his bedroll, where he was setting up wards around camp.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “Ah, but where’s the fun in that? There’s no _elegance_ to it. Blade work is an art form, my dear.” He mimed thrusting a knife through somebody’s chest, but the motion made him notice the grime once more, and he groaned. 

“Oh, let me look at it, then.” Thia moved over to where the other elf was sitting and held out her hand, placing his over her palm. “Eh. It’s not so bad, but if you _insist_ …” She rummaged through her belt pouch before pulling out a toothpick. “There we go.”

“You can’t be serious.” Astarion looked aghast.

Thia couldn’t help feeling amused. “It does the job. Now do you want to be as clean as you can be on the go, or do you just enjoy complaining?” Gale stifled a snicker.

“Fine. But give it here.” He snatched the toothpick with a frown. “I’ll do it myself if you don’t mind. I don’t need a stranger poking about my fingers.”

Thia smiled. “Suit yourself. Now, how should we go about keeping watch for the night? Taking turns? I’d suggest drawing straws, but alas, I am woefully un-strawed for the time being.”

“I’ll take the first watch.” Astarion didn’t take his eyes off his task.

“Alright. I can go second. Who’s next?”

Once that was sorted, they all prepared to bed down for the night, save for the pale elf. Astarion looked into the fire with a sober expression before turning his gaze to the stars. 

Thia tried to sleep as best as she could. For about half an hour, she tossed and turned, counting sheep and imagining the sea lapping the shore, but it was no use. She sat up in her bedroll and put her head in her hands, exhaling softly.

“Not a heavy sleeper, I take it.” Astarion looked over at her, smirking. “You should really get some rest, you know.”

“I’ve been _trying_ to,” Thia hissed out through gritted teeth. She sighed. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair of me. I’m just… This whole situation feels like a dream. A bad one. And I’m just a bit overwhelmed, but I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “No harm done. Besides, it’s not every day you get a tadpole forced behind your eye by an overgrown squid, is it?”

“At least we haven’t sprouted tentacles yet.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Did the toothpick help at least?”

“Yes, I suppose. It’s not the same as a good shower, but it’ll do.” An indirect thank-you, but perhaps the best she would get out of him. 

“I always have at least one on me. Perks of growing up in the woods. You get used to having to clean off moss and dirt all the time.”

“Ah, so you’re a _true_ wood elf, then? I thought you said you were from Baldur’s Gate.” Astarion stretched his arms out behind his head before dropping them to his sides.

“I… moved there not too long ago.” It was technically true, at least. He didn’t need to know anything beyond that. “But yes, I’ve lived in the woods for most of my life. Did the green skin not give it away?” She gestured to herself.

“And there I thought you were just a fan of outlandish cosmetics.”

They laughed together. Thia felt herself relax a little more. She hadn’t done that in a long time, and it was nice to share a moment with someone, even with the horrors of changing shape on the horizon.

“What brought you there, then?”

“I’m a magistrate back in the city. We wouldn’t have moved in the same circles, my dear.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “ _You_? A magistrate?”

“Is it so hard to believe?”

“I just can’t picture you sitting there with stacks of paper, listening to people drone on about their problems and actually _enjoying_ it.” 

“Oh, there’s far more to it than that, my dear. It’s surprisingly rewarding. Your decisions carry a lot of weight, you know. You really feel like you’re making a difference in somebody’s life.”

“Why do I feel like you’re amping up the sarcasm for my benefit?”

“Because I am.” He shrugged. “Now go back to sleep.”

“What? No bedtime story? Not even a lullaby?”

“I’m beginning to think you enjoy having a knife at your throat, you know.”

“Might do.” Thia grinned at him. “Only one way to find out.”

“Well then.” He moved quicker than she would have thought possible. One minute, he was standing near the fire; the next, he was kneeling before her, the point of a dagger beneath her chin. He tilted it upwards, moving her head with it. “Are you enjoying yourself?” His voice was a low purr, stirring something low in her belly.

Her breath hitched in her throat. Thia’s pulse was racing, heart working overtime as she looked at him. There was curiosity in his eyes, but also something else. Something more primal… something dangerously close to hunger. 

She gulped. “Maybe.”

He pushed her down against her bedroll, pulling the cover over her as he did so. “And are you going to sleep now?”

“Yes.” Her voice was scarcely above a whisper.

“Good. Sweet dreams, my dear.”

Thia let the exhaustion of the day claim her, eschewing meditation for true sleep, and within moments she was gone. 

Astarion watched her for a moment. He smiled slightly as she turned to face him, wondering idly what she might be dreaming of. Then he turned away, looking back at the fire, and was sober once more.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

The Druids' Grove proved to be something they would disagree on - _another_ of several things, Thia would come to learn later. But she could not bear to leave the Tieflings unaided, weak as they were, to travel to an uncertain fate. And so, with Gale behind her and joined by Wyll, a warlock they had met in the Grove, Thia pledged her support to Zevlor.

Astarion had nothing but complaints at that. "Are we to play the hero, now? Giving coins to orphans and saving cats from trees?" He frowned at her.

"There is no _playing_ to be done, Astarion," Thia said coolly. "And besides, I am bound by my order to do so."

"What order?" The hostility in his voice was momentarily replaced by curiosity.

"Tymora's. I am a Fellow of Free Fate." When he said nothing more, she continued: "I fight the machinations of Beshaba primarily, but I also give aid and healing to adventurers and those in need. And because part of that encompasses making it possible for folk to follow their dreams, it is not only my honour but also my beliefs that say I _must_ help the Tieflings."

"And so if we ever find a crying baby, or a child whose nose needs wiping, your beliefs say you must help them as well? Does your goddess _command_ you?"

Thia's eyes narrowed. "Mock me if you will, Astarion, but I will hear no slander of my Lady." 

"Alright, easy now, _easy_." Wyll hastily stepped between the two of them, holding out his arms to prevent them from coming to blows. "Let's just cool down and focus on the task ahead. We're going to help the tieflings, remember? And we can't do that if you two start ripping each other to shreds."

"Alright, alright, I get the picture. Time to save the day. But remember this, little cleric." Astarion turned back to face her, a sour look on his face. "The gods have not listened to my prayers for _centuries_. In all my hours of need, they deafened their ears and blinded their eyes. Why do you think your Lady wouldn't do the same for you?" And then he spun on his foot and walked off in the direction the Tieflings had given them. Thia was too flabbergasted to respond, and so she hastily moved to catch up, walking side by side in bitter silence.

The tension remained quietly as they fought their way to the goblin camp, making their own camp a short distance away, hidden out of sight of the sentry-posts Thia had scouted.

"We'll need to rest as much as possible tonight," she told the party once they had set up tents and prepared to rest. "Looks like there's plenty of them about, and I doubt they'll be open to negotiating. We might need to fight our way through, so we'll need all the energy we can get."

She walked into her own tent without another word, waving goodnight to the others. Thia scoured through her knapsack, looking for the little pouch of coins she kept for prayers and offerings. Satisfied, she gave it a little tap for luck before sliding it into a pocket. She sat still for a moment longer before crawling out through the tent flaps. To her surprise, Astarion was standing nearby; almost as though he had planned to enter her tent at that very moment. He looked just as stunned to see her, but recovered quickly, clearing his throat.

"I was just out for an evening stroll. Clear the head before we get covered in carnage."

"How odd." Thia tilted her head to the side, examining him for signs of duplicity. "I was about to do the same. Care to join me?"

"I suppose that would be... in order." He smirked at her. "What an odd pair we'd make. A cleric and a rogue. Is that a little... sacrilegious, perhaps?"

"Not really. At least not in my Lady's eyes." Thia knelt before a tree, quickly making a small hole in the ground with her hands. "The Fellowship may be made up of priests, but everyone is in need of luck from time to time. Sometimes, a Fellow might go questing in Tymora's name and need a little extra defence. They might call on a warrior, a rogue or what have you to provide assistance on that task. Tymora blesses all those who act in her name."

She opened the pouch, bringing forth a coin. Thia kissed it before holding it forth in the air and flipped it into the ground. Then she closed her eyes in prayer.

_My Lady, tomorrow we do battle in your name to save a group who have faced misfortune after misfortune. By their very blood, they are cursed to a life within reach of Beshaba's hands. Grant us your aid and power that we might be strong enough to win against the goblins; that I might return to the grove and grant them all the healing and assistance in your name that they require on their journey forth. Bless us, kind Lady, that I might return your luck tenfold to those in dearest need._

"A copper to the Lady returns tenfold in gold," Thia intoned, burying the coin in the ground and rising to her feet. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she teased, smiling at Astarion.

"It was a lot less fire and brimstone than I'm used to, that's for sure."

"Oh, come now. I'm not _that_ kind of priest." She stuck her tongue out at him. "Tymora doesn't really go for hell and damnation, anyway. She's someone you'd call on before going to a gambling den, or sealing a business deal, not sending someone to Avernus. That's more for _Beshaba_." Thia pronounced the name with more damnation than Astarion thought her capable of, actually spitting on the ground after saying her name. She wiped her face clean.

"I see." He was silent for a moment, seemingly searching for something - the right word, perhaps. He looked to be wrestling with something important, though, so Thia granted him the moment without interruption.

Astarion's next words were so quiet, she had to lean in to hear them. "Say if.... say if somebody had lived a good life. For the most part," he added quickly. "Not a perfect life, but a good one. And then they met an evil man, someone so cruel that even a devil would be taken aback. Say that the man did such terrible things to someone that they lost their faith in the gods. That they had been let down completely. Say they felt that even... _your Lady_ had betrayed them." He spoke slowly, as though he was uncertain of what to say next. "Would she... would she curse them for what they might have said or done in those dark moments?"

"No," Thia said gently. She wasn't quite sure what had provoked this in him, and nor did she understand completely what he was getting at; but whatever it was, was clearly important to him. She would not treat this vulnerability lightly. "We are all human, and we all err. The gods know this, even the Lady. Tymora does not withhold her blessing from the weak and needy; she certainly would not keep it from someone having a crisis of faith from circumstances beyond their control. Whether they believe or no, so long as they live within her path, she smiles down."

"That is... good to hear." The mask fell over his face once more. Whatever he had hinted at before now vanished as if in a puff of smoke. "We should return back to camp, lest the others think we have gone for a tryst."

"A _tryst_ , you say?" Thia chuckled. "Well, worse things have happened on the eve of battle. And I am not sworn to celibacy, you know," she winked at him. 

"Oh, I see," Astarion smirked. " _That_ introduces a whole new realm of possibilities."

"It does indeed. And I assure you, Tymora would not look unfavourably on a - a tryst, as you call it. On the contrary, she would probably be relieved my loins were no longer gathering dust from disuse."

Astarion laughed loudly. The sound made her smile. He was quite a handsome man, really, when he wasn't frowning, and when he laughed, she could see him relaxed. Not just his face, but his whole being, as though he was constantly walking on an unseen tightrope.

Now where had _that_ thought come from? 

"Why are you looking at my face like that? Is the little priest having naughty thoughts already, I wonder?" His voice brought her out of her reverie.

Thia cleared her throat. "Try and read my mind. You won't know otherwise." 

"Oh, I don't need to read your mind to notice your pupils widening, or the flush on your cheeks." He leant down as if to kiss her, and she felt her stomach flip. But instead of her lips, he made his way to her ear. " _Patience_ , little priest," Astarion whispered, his voice deepening into a seductive purr. "Let us return back to the grove as conquering heroes. Then, if your mind is still unsatisfied... I will conquer you."

He bid her goodnight, making his way back to his tent with a wicked smile and something suspiciously close to a spring in his step. Whatever he had hinted at before, talking about it seemed to have left him... bold. Daring, if his words were of any weight at all... and _happy_. 

Thia felt as though her mind had dissolved somewhere on the walk back to camp, along with her lower half. She crawled unsteadily through the tent flaps, all but collapsing into her bedroll. When she held a hand to her cheek, it blazed as hot as an open fire.

This was embarrassing. Was she a child, to fawn over him with a crush? And it _wasn't_ a crush, certainly not on his part. This back and forth, this cat-and-mouse game, one minute pushing her away and the next minute drawing her closer... Those weren't the actions of a man in love - were they?

And what had he meant back by the tree, talking about an evil man and someone who believed the gods had failed them? Surely he couldn't have meant himself. The Astarion she knew was proud, and not a little vain; he would never have risked telling her something like that. It had to have been a metaphor, perhaps truth cloaked in something else; perhaps a friend, a family member. A lover? 

She groaned in frustration against her pillow. _If I spend all night trying to unravel him, I won't sleep at_ all. Thia banished all thought of him from her mind, took a moment to calm herself and tried to sleep.

Her dreams were hazy at first as she drifted away; abstract thoughts, colours, sensations. And then, as she fell more deeply asleep, her thoughts turned to him once more. To how it might feel to see Astarion smiling at her - _truly_ , with warmth and kindness - with a glint of joy in his eye; how he might take her in his arms, and hold her close, that she might feel the beat of his heart matching hers. He would bend down so that their foreheads touched before kissing her, gently and slow, smiling against her lips. 

Astarion kissed her once more, then peppered a trail of kisses from her mouth to her cheek, to the sensitive tip of her long ear, then down to her jaw. " _Lar_ _anlas_ , _a_ _i armiel te_ _lere maenan hir_ ," he whispered against her skin.

She felt his lips move lower to brush against her throat, asking for permission. "Yes," she murmured, groaning as he sank his teeth into her neck. 

Thia woke up to find Astarion hovering over her, kneeling as if to act the very same way her dream had imagined. Still caught in the haze, it took her a moment to realise this was no dream at all.

"Shit," Astarion said, hastily backing away. "It's not what it looks like, I promise!"

"What's going on?" Speaking made her yawn, and Thia stifled the noise against her fist. She rubbed her eyes, looking up at him in confusion. 

"I wasn't going to hurt you. I... I only need a little blood. I promise you."

There, in the light of the moon through the gap in her tent flaps, Thia saw fangs in his teeth. The deathly pallor, the way his skin had felt so cool to the touch when he almost killed her, the fact she had never seen him eat with the others, always making one excuse after another... It all made sense now.

Astarion was a vampire.

"It's not what you think! I'm not some monster," he said quickly, and she noticed the way he seemed guilty. "I feed on animals. Boars, kobolds, deer, whatever I find. I'm just too slow right now to hunt. Too _weak_." He turned away, avoiding her gaze.

"Why didn't you just ask me?" 

"At best, I was sure you'd say no." He sighed. "More likely, you'd just run a stake through my ribs. I just needed you to trust me... and you _can_ trust me." Astarion looked back at her, and she noticed a dim ray of hope flash across his face.

"I _do_ trust you, Astarion," Thia replied. It was true, she did; it wasn't just prompted by whatever feelings she may have had. He was a good fighter in battle, she had seen that first-hand, and he had always moved to help protect and aid the others when it was necessary. Anything he'd found - gold, trinkets, armour - he shared with the rest of them. He had even helped bandage her up once, when she had been so tired from healing the others that she had no energy left to use her powers on herself. 

No, she trusted him - but she couldn't help feeling slightly hurt that he hadn't trusted her with this secret of his. _You haven't trusted him with yours either_ , her brain reminded her. 

He paused, as if caught between two choices. "Could you... trust me a little further, do you think?" When she didn't reply, he continued hastily: "I only need a _little_ taste, I swear!"

There it was. The reason he'd entered her tent in the middle of the night. It wasn't to apologise for the way he had acted earlier, or anything similar. It was because he needed something from her, and he was desperate enough to visit the person whose authority he loved flouting.

And wasn't that just a twist of the knife? Did he hold any respect for her at all?

"Only a taste, you say?" Thia looked at him suspiciously. "And if I tell you to stop, you will?"

"I promise." He looked more serious than she had ever seen him before. "I swear it on... well, I can't exactly say my life, but I'm sure you get the picture."

A favour for a favour. Were she colder, more callous, she might have used it as a bargaining chip. 

But he was... a friend, perhaps - she was not entirely sure what to call him - and had she not said earlier that part of her duties were to help those in need to pursue their dreams? Did this not count as being _in need_ , then?

Thia sighed. "Very well."

Astarion's eyes widened in shock for a moment. "Really? I -" He cleared his throat. "Of course . Not one drop more."

Thia lay back down, warily this time. Her body was tense, her mind tenser, and it was hard to close her eyes. 

"Relax," Astarion whispered. "If... if it helps, imagine the face of your lover kissing your neck. If you like. I've heard it helps some."

She closed her eyes. Her thoughts turned slowly back to Astarion, the one from her dream, who had been as courteous and romantic as she could have hoped for. 

He lay down beside her and held her body close to him, carefully and delicately, as though one firm touch might shatter her. Gently, he turned her head to the side, and she felt him lower his lips to her neck. When his fangs bit into her skin, Thia flinched slightly. It felt cold and sharp, like a shard of ice... and then it faded, pain giving way to a sense of throbbing numbness. She could feel his breath against her neck, and as she relaxed into the feeling, Thia found it didn't hurt at all.

On the contrary: she didn't want him to stop. She leaned into his touch, curving her body into him, pushing the back of his head against her with one hand and stifling a moan with the other. Thia felt warmth suffusing through her stomach at his touch, flowing through her as freely as the blood down her neck, curling her toes as he carried on. He groaned - whether from pleasure, relief from his bloodlust, or both, she couldn't say - and lapped eagerly, fluttering his tongue in a way that made her quiver against him. 

The numbness began to spread further through her, leaving drowsiness in its wake. It was harder and harder to fight him off her - and did she really want to? When it felt like this? So good, so right, so... 

Quickly, she began to fade away once more. She didn't notice Astarion remove his fangs from her neck, or start tapping against her skin in a panic. All his curses, his bitter prayers, his pleas to any and all deities to save her: his worlds fell on ears now dead to the world.

Within seconds, Thia was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Don't worry, she's not dead! Just unconscious...)
> 
> **Translation:**
> 
> \- _Laranlas_ : "regal lady"; essentially something like 'queen'. The way Astarion is using it here would be 'my queen'; the my is inferred.
> 
> \- _Ai armiel telere maenan hir_ : You hold my heart forever


End file.
